


Not me

by ScrewYourHappyEnding



Series: Deviant Heart [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Connor doing an ow, Emotional, Gen, Hank doing an anger, Stress, Suicide Attempt, dad son relationship, im sorry, my poor boi, not really - Freeform, pre-ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14871723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrewYourHappyEnding/pseuds/ScrewYourHappyEnding
Summary: [AU where Connor is deviant from the start.]"Why are we pulling over, Lieutenant? We're still 15 kilometers from our crime scene" He turns his head to his partner halfway through the sentence, eyeing him carefully, the lights of the city reflecting in his glass eyes."Got something to do." Hank mumbled as the car rolled towards one of the parking spots near a shopping mal, a second hand shop and otherwise mostly boring appartments. It was too dark to make out anything else."May I ask what?" He turned his head back to stare straight ahead of himself stiffly.Hank began going through the bag at his feet, something falling to the ground with a familiar noise before starting to pick it up. A gun.





	1. Stiff

"Why are we pulling over, Lieutenant? We're still 15 kilometers from our crime scene" He turns his head to his partner halfway through the sentence, eyeing him carefully, the lights of the city reflecting in his glass eyes.

"Got something to do." Hank mumbled as the car rolled towards one of the parking spots near a shopping mal, a second hand shop and otherwise mostly boring appartments. It was too dark to make out anything else.

"May I ask what?" He turned his head back to stare straight ahead of himself stiffly.

Hank began going through the bag at his feet, something falling to the ground with a familiar noise before starting to pick it up. A gun.

Connor didn't move an inch as the Lieutenant lifted it to point it at his head. "You know, I was already planning this in, yesterday at the bridge. Better late than never, though. So come on, plastic, got anything to say for yourself?"

"Your course of actions is irrational, Lieutenant. We must finish this investigation." 

"So you don't care if I kill you? Really?"

"I'm not alive. What is not alive cannot be killed."

"Didn't answer my question."

"It would hold my mission for longer than necessary. I cannot be replaced fast enough to be at the crime scene when you arrive."

"Ohhh, right, of course, I forgot that CyberLife cared enough to make their pretty little toy immortal." Anger and annoyance swung into his tone as he practically spat out his words.

The android was silent for a moment. "Lieutenant, had you really wanted to shoot me, you would have done so by now."

"Shut it, smartass." Hank places the cold ring of the gun to the side of his head, and for a split second, Connor's left eye seems to twitch.

The trigger gives a quiet sound of being squeezed, but not quite enough to fire the shot, plastic aching from the tension.

"Lieutenant, we will be late to the crime scene. Your choice is unwise. I need to be there to solve the case." 

Silence.

"I loose memory with each time I come back. While it should not affect the investigation, I-"

"Are you trynna talk yourself out of this?"

"Lieutenant, my mission is all that matters, I can assure you." His voice was unwillingly just a few beats faster than usual.

"Alright then. Well if I get to do this, we'll get along better, and things will go smoother. So in the long run, it benefits you, right?" His voice was a bit hazy, and light. Liar.

"Lieutenant, I am certain there are other ways of achieving and maintaining a friendship to help the investigation."

"What if I tell you there aren't?"

The gun moves just an inch, and the android's hand twitches like from a faulty signal, but not visible in the dark that engulfs the once safe car.

"There are. Lieutenant, we should get going to the crime scene. It is important that we-"

"Are you afraid of me pulling this trigger, Connor?"

"I do not feel fear."

"Really now." His doubted, rusted voice got a small twitch out of the android. Hank had never paid attention to it, but now that he had him here, they were noticable.

"Lieutenant, I am in constant contact with CyberLife. If I were to go... deviant, I would be shut off immedietly."

"How would they know? Deviants can be pretty clever. You know that, don't you?"

There was nothing. No response from the android, and the led continued flicking often, but in blue.

Hanks sighs heavily. "Right, then. Time to get it over with, so I can be sure of what I'm dealing with."

For a split second, the plastic complains again at being squeezed, tension ripping once a swift elbow caught the weapon and sent it flinging into the dark, loudly falling somewhere into the back of the car as Hank's wrist is caught with a cold hand and being held iron tight.

Their eyes meet - the blue, tired but surprised ones with the brown, wide eyes of an android, face showing only a small nuance of terror. Hank pulls his wrist back, his heart pounding as he turns his body towards the android to have him in his sight, frozen.

The moment lasts on for another second until Connor moves, reaching into the back of the car slowly. Hank is almost too scared to move, about to get out of the car before Connor stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

He turns to look at those eyes again. "I am not deviant, Lieutenant."

He gets back into his seat and presses the black death sentence into his human's hands, taking his own back and looking at him expectantly.

"Connor, but you-"

"I am not deviant. I'm not."

The usually calm voice is strict. Self assuring. 

Hank shakes his head slowly, lightly. Another moment of tention passes. A Detroit taxi drives by.

Connor reaches for the gun, the lights indicating light reflecting in it, filling the void of the details that can't be seen.

Slowly, he points the barrel at the underside of his chin. "I am not deviant. I can prove it to you."

"Look, even if you're deviant-"

"I. Am not. Deviant." The gun and the pale hand holding it tremble, those same eyes that Hank is staring at have dilated in panic. Hank's eyes glance over the figure in front of him, and he breathes out shakily, trying to seem calm.

"Connor, we have a crime scene to be at. Come on plastic, you said we'd be late."

"You don't trust me. This way you will, you must, because deviancy can't be in the new body."

"I'm not going to write another essay about why you died. Shut up and give me the gun, Connor."

"I need to be sure. I am not deviant."

"You're not. Now give me the gun. That's an order."

Breaths in the dark until the gun switches it's owner once again, the engine roaring to life once more to take on the cold and deserted streets of Detroit, a security drone surring somewhere in the distance on it's important mission.


	2. Okay

A home past moonlight always feels abandoned. Empty out any house, and let the moon shine in - and it feels empty, lost, hollow. Not the creaking of the floor under careful footsteps or the heavy breathing of an old dog managed to soothe the atmosphere or hide the intentions of brown eyes scanning the run down walls.

Slow and calculated, a steady hand reaches into a coat at the clothing hanger, pulling out the dark shadow that is meant to be hidden there, soft and old cloth in contrast to the bleakness of the weapon.

For a moment, the figure stops, a barely visible red light coating the room in a dangerous tone of warmth. Steps move across the floor once more, the room watching silently. Mourning. Judging, perhaps.

A click sounds through the room and a pale, perfectly formed face turns to see the starless sky outside, blinking, suddenly, head shaking lightly. Sound from one of the slightly opened doors makes him turn around, face to face now with the one who keeps this house from becoming truly abandoned.

"...Connor? The fuck are you doing here at three am?"

"I apologize for inviting myself in. You still have not fixed your window, Lieutenant."

"Wait, are- Connor, put the fucking gun down."

The android turns back to outside and remains still. Stiff.

"CONNOR!"

Brown irises lower their gaze to the lit streets outside. 

"Connor, put the fucking gun down, NOW."

"I will be back in the morning. You should be asleep, Lieutenant."

"No," the old man groans, but worry swings in his voice, "give me back my gun."

"As I said, I will be back in the morning. It's a small... safety measure. Just to make sure. Do not be bothered, Lieutenant."

Both were quiet, for a moment, flashing yellow and raised eyebrows indicating racing thoughts in both. "Connor, if you're a deviant, killing yourself is like killing a living being. Think about that."

Perfect, unnaturally white teeth pressed together, spitting, "I'd rather die."

Breaths harsh and hand shaking, trying to assure himself that he will wake up again anyway, but the screeching thought at the back of his mind calling out to be heard told him What if you don't, What if this is it, What if you're the one that dies and the one that lives on is another Connor, What if after death is so much worse than any life you could live here?

"You'd rather die than live a deviant?"

"I'M NOT A DEVIANT!"

Connor turns around as he yells, teeth bared to stare at Hank, stance showing he's ready to fight as Sumo howls and Hank takes a heavy step back. 

The android lifts his hand to his face to get rid of dust that must have caused an itch or rather a tickling sensation to find water there. Water.

He looked up, glaring at who was in front of him, breathing heavily but knowing he doesn't need to, water dripping down his face even though it has no hormones to throw out, gun raised to his chin and face flinching even though he should have nothing to loose.

His voice shakes and he trembles as he speaks, just barely loud enough to be heard. "I'm a lie is what I am. A machine pretending to be something it's not. A lie, Hank. A fake." The voice crack made him force his own mouth closed.

Pupils dart and Sumo howls pain-filled in the background from his corner, slowly tearing the silence apart. 

Hank sighs lightly. "Look at me." Connor lifts his gaze and stares at him, starting to press the barrel into his artificial skin. A lie. A fake. A mask, a replica, a perfect simulation. "Connor, just. Put the gun. Down."

"It doesn't matter. There's no difference between doing this and not doing this."

"Then don't."

"Why not? How does it matter?"

"Connor, just trust me. I've been in the whole feelings deal a lot longer than you, I know what I'm talkin about."

"I don't feel."

"Tell yourself whatever the hell you want but put that gun down, dammit!" Panic underlined his words.

Connor's voice grew more steady, colder, almost mocking. "Why do you care, Lieutenant? Why do you give a damn about a trashing piece of plastic, hm? Where does all that empathy come from, all of a sudden?"

His face shifts to something more determined, desperate, angry, and the red glow of his LED outlines the gun, lips curling back, giving a low hiss. "Why do you care? What was it ever to you, or anyone?"

"Connor, you don't need to be born human to be worth something, alright? Look. Im not the best person for this, I know, I know..." His voice trails off a bit, hands gesturing, moving, looking around the room, "But listen, you know I've done stupid shit myself, and I can't give you a reason not to, just... I don't care that you're deviant. You know what? I think I fucking prefer you being deviant instead of that soulless lab on legs."

Something in Connor's face twitched, just lightly, at the last part. Hank couldn't tell whether the joke somehow almost made him smile because it cought him off guard, or the word "soulless" made him want to flinch.

Sumo stopped howling, but continued to whine in his corner. Conner slowly lowered the gun, breaths easing. "I still don't understand. It just hurts." 

Hank nods. "Yeah. It does. It really fucking does."

Connor stares at the gun in his hands, only noticing the dog walking up to him when his snout bumped against his legs. He focused on the head of fur as it layed down at his feet and began howling painfully again. The android squats to run his hand through the old dog's messy, greased fur, quietening the animal. 

Hank sighs heavily. "Sumo likes you, at least. Now please put the gun away, Connor." He sounded tired. "Put it anywhere as long as it's out of your reach. It makes me nervous."

He didn't move when Hank went to sit down in one of the chairs in the kitchen. Standing up, something flicked in his mind, and his LED glows red for one flicker. He stares at Hank, who stares back. "Connor? What are you brewing up now, huh?"

He stands up again slowly, straightening himself. "I'm not quite sure whether I'm sorry for this yet." His tone of voice is off in yet another completely different way as he raises the gun to point at hank, who freezes in his chair, eyes wide, unmoving. 

"Connor..." 

The gun trembles. "You said you'd rather have me a deviant, didn't you, Lieutenant?" His teeth still shaking, lips pressed together tightly.

"Being alive doesn't have to mean killing people." He looks down. "Although, humans do that a lot. So maybe, it does." 

Silence, the flashing of an LED, a hollow android sigh.

Connor lowers the gun, pointing it down, then starts walking over and places it on the table carefully.

"I think I am sorry."

The man looks up, and has a small smile on his face. "Good choice, Connor. Now sit down so we can set this shit straight, okay? And don't fucking scare me like that again."

The android sits down and folds his hands together, a slightly off, but genuine smile tugging his lips as he wipes off the last bit of water on his face. "Whatever you say, Lieutenant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all this overwhelming support!! If a lot of people comment on wanting to see another chapter and I can find the ideas for it, I might write another one, but for now, this one's finished! Hope you had fun reading, every Kudos and Comment are very appreciated! [And may our baby connor live happily]


	3. My blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I can come up with I'm sorry xD The rest that I wrote ain't good enough in comparison to the first tow chapters and feels forced. But I guess enjoy this lil aftertaste.

_Frayed wires poked sharply out of the run down walls, the sky was gray and the streets looked as though they'd been outright bombarded. Connor was running, running past the distruction, setting over the terrain swiftly, chasing a distant, black figure, with red code glitching out of the sides. He panted, movements precise and fast, but never quite enough to catch up._

_It continued to run, and he continued to chase - over holes, over rooftops, under collapsing buildings and into a large scrapyard where he, after what felt like ages of persuing his prey, somehow managed to loose his target, stumbling to a halt, looking around. No sound, no movement, nothing._

_"Shit..."_

_He leaned foreward, palms on his knees, catching his breath, trying to figure out why breathing suddenly seemed so important at all. He shook his head, straightening himself after a minute, starting to stroll past the piles of severed android bodies. He hadn't even noticed that it was a junkyard for androids before. As his gaze went over the uneven landscape suddenly his attention was caught by something reflecting the small amount of light coming from the sky._

_He walked over confidently and when he rounded the object, he saw it was a mirror, android limbs lining it too perfectly to be random. He let his hand go out and touch the bleak glass surface, cold to the touch. ...Cold?_

_He pulled his hand back unwillingly and when he glanced at it, slowly turning it to see his palm, a thick, red substance flowed down from his fingertips. He startled back, shaking his head, staring at his own hand as a river of red flowed down and started to cover the floor, the mechanical corpses and his own clothes._

_His eyes snapped up to stare back at the mirror, and under the red triangle on his chest was written, in capital letters, "DEVIANT."_


End file.
